


they come in twos

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ableist Language, Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Quadrant Confusion, Sleep Sex, Wow I can't believe that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be honest, you do like him a lot better when he’s asleep. When he’s asleep, you never have to worry about him, and you never have to even consider his feelings for you</p>
            </blockquote>





	they come in twos

**Author's Note:**

> wow i havent written anything in a long time. the title may or may not be a welcome to night vale quote.  
> aere perennius might update within the next month if i can find the outline too so yay for that.  
> this was written on an iPhone.

You think he might love you.

It’s dusk, far too early for you to be awake, and he’s asleep in your arms, his body soft and cool. From the angle you’re lying, you can’t really tell what his face looks like, but he hasn’t moved in hours, so you’re sure it’s quite peaceful.

He almost always falls asleep on you these days, cuddled as close as he can manage, his arms and legs wrapped around you like you’re his lifeline. At first you wondered why, but as the days passed, you began to notice how his eyes were warmer and his skin was colder and he kept getting closer, like imminent death.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. The air smells like salt, and vaguely of last night, whatever that means. The air always smells like salt around him, he brings the sea with him wherever he goes, whether he bothers to actually swim in it himself or not. (You think maybe its because he relates that he hates it, as he is also so open, and yet so hard to understand.) There’s at least another hour before he wakes up, and another two after that before he lets you know. You suppose you could call his bluff, but you sort of think its cute that he would rather just lay with you than do anything else.

To be honest, you do like him a lot better when he’s asleep. When he’s asleep, you never have to worry about him, and you never have to even consider his feelings for you. You never have to think about your mess of a quadrant (or lack thereof, you really can’t tell at this point), and you never have to talk about things. Things are a lot quieter when he’s asleep, with the exception of the voices, of course. They seem to quiet down when he’s awake, either that or his voice drowns them out, you can’t be sure. Either way, when he’s asleep, you can think.  


Despite having pailed, you still managed to stain your sheets again. You wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the obvious wet spot in the middle of the bed, slowly drying in the most uncomfortable way. You sigh, quietly so as not to wake him, knowing you’ll have to either clean that or to get new sheets. Again. You know you can’t help the situation much, but you wish it was more controlled.

That’s how you like things. Controlled. You like them easy, and understandable. You've spent the majority of your life under your own scrutiny, and tight schedule the only thing to keep you sane. Your nights were a cycle of coding and eating, and before that, the only other things you ever had to do were feed your lusus and take care of your bees. Every responsibility is long gone now, now that you live in this hive that he bought for you, under an alias you can’t remember most nights. You have to constantly remind yourself that he’s doing this- that you’re doing this- to protect you.

You suppose you ought to be grateful. If it weren’t for him you’d be programmed into some ship somewhere in another galaxy, a fucking vegetable for the condesce. You know you would have made the perfect helmsman. You were, after all the best, most powerful psionic of your age. That’s what everyone tells you anyway. You aren’t about to deny it, even though the only things you ever use your psionics for are getting out of everyday activities like walking or making food.

Eridan likes the psionics. Not the way that he should like them, because of the bright colors or something, but because he likes the power.

You smile. He prefers to have you inside him, you think, probably because he likes the attention you give him. You benefit from this, of course, because his body is just another thing that you can control. You can make sure he makes the right noises and feels the right way without even moving a finger. You are in charge of his pleasure and he only comes because you make him. It's exhilarating and exciting, and not to mention a decent getaway from his usual dramatics. He's not so full of it when he's begging for you.

You keep your arms tightly around him, holding him rooted toward you as if he would even try to leave. Your mind is elsewhere and it's not long before can feel heat building in your skull. It travels down your spine, a delightful burn that you are all too used to, and stalls at your groin.  


Your breath quickens and the bright red and blue tendrils cozy up to your slowly unsheathing bulge. (The rumors about your having two were only half true- you have one, it’s just twice as big as anyone else’s. Eridan found it to be a delightful surprise.) You slide them up into your nook, making them vibrate quietly as they enter and exit. You are wet in almost no time, and have to fight to keep your bulge away from the sleeping troll beside you.

You look over at him and, in what could only be described at a sudden fit of love, you softly nose at his hair. He is beautiful. You would never tell him to his face, but he makes you wax poetic, anything but caliginous. It aches to think about, so you don't, and instead stroke your bulge with your psionics. The heat is quickly becoming to much to handle, with the smell of him lying right beside you unawares. You grip him only a little tighter.

You imagine him sidling up to you like yesterday, gripping your shirt with a sly grin in a room full of people. You remember how he cornered you in the bathroom and kissed at your neck like you deserved it. Every kiss said the words that he couldn't, you know now and you whimper under your breath. Every cool touch of skin was a promise.  


You think of when you were last inside of him, and how you thought nothing for the noises he made and what he said while he was full of you. You're too far gone to remember what made you ignore it, all you know know is you want to hear it again. Over and over and over, pressing him into the sheets or the couch or the tabletop, you don't care.

You can feel yourself coming close now, but instead of getting a bucket or something along those lines, you just rub your psionics up and down yourself, trying halfheartedly to avoid making loud crackles and harsh sparks.

Sollux I love you, Sollux I love you, Sollux I love you.

Yesterday he came with your name on his lips like always, screaming and whimpering, his feminine nails tearing stripes down your back.

Sollux I love you, Sollux I love you.

He stared up at you with deep violet eyes filled to the brim with an emotion you didn't want to name and rocked exhausted with you until you followed him into oblivion. You rolled off of him as quick as anything, but you liked the soft sheen of sweat that made his skin shine.

Sollux I love you.

He had snuggled right up to him and you ignored it for a moment, but when you turned to look at him, he was covered in love bites that you left, screeches and bruises too. He smiled like you were a god and dragged you back in for another go.

Sollux-

You see stars, blacking out for a moment as your slurry covers your legs and his. Your heart beats rapidly and you breathe as if you just ran a marathon, and it takes a few moments for you to calm yourself. It takes a few more to loosen your grip on him. You think you see a slight smile on his lips, and you back off in realization that he was probably awake and only pretending to have slept through that. He had the tendency to do that.

You suppose it was a good thing that he pretended to ignore you. You weren't matesprits, after all, and acting like you were was useless. You were caliginous, black as the winter sky and the shirt on your back and you were willing to ignore the words he says to you in the fucking throws of passion to keep it that way.

So, you settle back down to a comfortable position and pretend you don't feel him cuddle closer to you, no matter how good it feels. You focus instead on what a pain in the ass having to buy new sheets will be. Oh how you hate him, this troll so pliant to your will, so stupidly entranced with your very being.

You know he loves you, but you don't think you'll act on it tonight. You owe your life to this wreck of a quadrant, and besides, everything is better in twos.


End file.
